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Write. Eat. Rinse. Repeat.

Let’s Just Be.

<<Editor’s Note: I’ve made it a personal mission to finish every draft in my drafts folder. I may be opening Pandora’s Box, but here goes nothing. This one is from sometime last year. >>

If you ask me what my perfect first date would be, I’d tell you I’d already had it. I had never had an 8 hour first date before, and in all honesty, I didn’t even want it to end. I met him at the farmer’s market, with Adonis on my hip. It was a Saturday, and it was hot, and I wore all black. Actually, I looked like a mom. Barely any makeup, baby bag slung over my shoulder. The farmer’s market turned into train rides in the mountains for my lil one, which bled into a street festival and by the time I knew it, the sun was down and it was time for bed. I was smitten, and to this day, I have yet to go on a better first date.

If you ask me what my perfect date would be, I’d tell you I’d already had it. He told me to be ready by 7pm. I wore something that I knew he’d like and as soon as I opened the door, the look on his face told me I’d done well. He used to look at me like I was the only woman in the world, and I ate it up like it was hazelnut ice cream. Twenty minutes later we were at the museum, acting child-like around all the exhibits, only reminding myself I was grown by the drink in my hand. Before I knew it we were at the bar, dancing too close to each other, but neither of us cared. We ended the night in my bed, as our skin kissed and the blankets twist. The date ended with a “Good Morning.” and if I could re-live that one night again, I would do it in a cocaine-heartbeat.

But if you ask me what a perfect night would be? I’d say this. Let’s just be. Let’s just be in each other’s company, sharing a pair of pajamas. I can wear the top, and you can wear the bottom, and dinner can come from the stove or even the microwave. You don’t have to shave, I don’t have to fix my face. But we do have to agree on what channel the TV is on, and you will have to be comfortable with my neck in your nook after I rub your feet.

And I don’t even need you to try and top that first day, and I don’t expect every date to be the perfect date, either. But I do need every night to be perfectly us. Let’s just be, you and me. In all we were meant to be…. happy.